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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032986">Darkness Exists (To Make Light Truly Count)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irish_Winchester/pseuds/Irish_Winchester'>Irish_Winchester</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Darkness Exists [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:02:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irish_Winchester/pseuds/Irish_Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The holiday season is a time for looking back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Darkness Exists [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Darkness Exists (To Make Light Truly Count)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's been so long I don't even know if I can still do this. Title is from Sleeping At Last's 'Uneven Odds'. Might be slightly confusing if you didn't read FOC, but maybe not.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Christmas used to be just another day for Jensen. </p>
<p>Between hiding the bruises and spending most of it alone, it was just another day. After a few years he knew there weren't going to be presents under the shabby, too-thin, half dead Christmas tree his mother had been able to find. He grew used to sitting out of the conversations once school started again, when the other children would brag about what they had received from Santa- or, as they grew older, their parents. Jensen grew used to knowing his wants would go unanswered, his wishes never coming true. </p>
<p>Just another day.</p>
<p>For the past six years, however, Jensen has grown to love Christmas. Loves the holiday spirit that seems to overcome everyone, even when it's still early (November is for Thanksgiving, not Christmas). He loves being able to have a tree that doesn't lean to one side, and actually has more than seven bulbs on it. One with bright white lights and colorful ornaments covering every branch. </p>
<p>And though he appreciates getting gifts as much as he likes to give them in return, and finally being able to speak to people about his holiday with genuine glee rather than half-assed smiles, those aren't his favorite things about Christmas. No, Jensen's favorite thing about the holidays was easily just the fact that he could now spend it with people who <em>cared </em>about him. People that make him smile and laugh and feel so, so loved. <em>That's </em>his favorite thing. </p>
<p>He can't wait for this year. </p>
<p>******</p>
<p>The drive home is never something that's bothered Jensen. He doesn't ever mind the traffic, or the long stretch of straight road. It's always been somewhat calming to him; he always stays alert, never feels overly comfortable, yet there's always a therapeutic aspect to it. The radio this time of year is always a mix of bad talk shows and over-played holiday ballads, so he makes sure to play music from his phone for car rides these days. </p>
<p>Taking the final turn to the house, Jensen feels the last bit of tension ease away from his shoulders. He parks next to the familiar, old truck on the side of the house, where there's already a few more cars. Jensen gets out of the car, grabbing his bag from the passenger's seat. As he heads to the front door, he can hear the faint jingle of music inside the house, and it gets louder as the door opens. He sees his Uncle Jeff step out, letting the door slam shut behind him as he settles on to the old porch swing. He smiles at Jensen, tilting his head towards the car. </p>
<p>"You're late," Jeff teases, raising an eyebrow at his nephew. Jensen rolls his eyes. </p>
<p>"Traffic, and I'm not late. Y'all just early," Jensen scoffs, but smiles as his uncle stands, pulling him into a hug. </p>
<p>"It's good to see you, Kid. C'mon, let's get inside." </p>
<p>The house smells a little like cinnamon from the kitchen, and pine from the large tree in the corner of the living room. The lights are dimmed throughout the house, giving it a more relaxed, mellow setting. There's jackets and shoes lined up on the wall, and Jensen toes off his shoes next to the pile. He can hear laughter and conversation mostly from the living room, and heads over while Jeff checks on the food in the oven. </p>
<p>Jensen's long gotten over feeling nervous about just walking around the house, looking for people. He's now more wary of extended silence than he is of the usual commotion of school and home. The teenager slowly takes off his jacket, lying it on the counter as he peers inside the main room, leaning against the wall as he takes in who's all here. His grandparents are sitting on the sofa, speaking to Chad and Chris. Genevieve is by the tree, drink in hand as she admires the lights. Jeff's wife is kneeling on the floor, Harley and Sadie lying beside her as she gives them affection. </p>
<p>Sadie perks her head up as he approaches; carefully getting to her feet before lumbering towards him- Harley following soon after. They aren't as young as they used to be, Jensen knows. He pushes the thought aside as he crouches down, letting them get close in their excitement. Sadie stays close to his side, tail wagging, while Harley still tries to push him to the floor with his weight, like always. It stopped working when Jensen hit fifteen; growing into himself and starting to gain muscle to go along with his newfound height. </p>
<p>Jensen eventually gets back up, just in time for his grandmother to pull him into a tight hug. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he ducks his head as she kisses his cheek. </p>
<p>"Jensen, honey, how are you? Was the drive okay?" Sherry asks, pulling back to look at him. </p>
<p>"I'm good, thank you. The drive was fine. How are you?" Jen smiles, gently squeezing her arms as she lets him go fully.</p>
<p>He's missed her. Of course, he's missed everyone, but he and Sherry had gotten close throughout the years, and she was surprisingly hard to say goodbye to, when leaving for his first year of college. It's crazy to think he's in his second year, now.</p>
<p>"Oh, I'm fine, sweetheart, so sweet of you to ask," She laughs, patting his cheek gently. </p>
<p>Jensen lets her go just as the others start to flock around; finally noticing that he's home. There's a lot of hugs and quite a few questions, and before he knows it Jensen is caught up in a conversation with Chad about his- admittedly- less than legal experiences at college before another voice cuts in. </p>
<p>"Don't go giving my boy any ideas, Murray." </p>
<p>Jensen snorts, grinning as he turns away from Chad to face his father. Jared's leaning against the wall, much like Jensen was just minutes ago. It's likely he'd been standing there a while, just taking in everyone before him. Not a lot has changed about him the six- going on seven- years that Jensen has spent with him. Same long hair, same dimpled smile that they share. Though the laugh lines around his mouth are just a little more defined, and he's lost some of the muscle that Jensen had originally been scared of. However, those little things still don't change the image of his father. </p>
<p>The teen heads towards his father, readily accepting the tight hug he gets pulled in to once he gets close enough. The height difference between them has lessened over the years, and Jensen now reaches just under his father's shoulder. It makes it a lot easier for Jensen to wrap his arms around him, returning the embrace just as tightly. Absently, Jensen can hear everyone else gradually returning to whatever conversations they'd been having before Jared stepped in, which gives the two a moment of privacy. </p>
<p>"Exams go all right?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, I think I did okay," Jensen replies, and he hears his father scoff. </p>
<p>"That means you aced them, don't lie."</p>
<p>There's the press of lips against his head, before Jared is letting him go with another smile. Jensen returns it.</p>
<p>******</p>
<p>Christmas used to be just another day for Jensen. Hardly a blip on his calendar, something he'd rather forget about. Now, though, he appreciates it more than ever. To have a chance to be around his family, not having to worry about getting hurt, or ignored. It's more than anything he'd ever wished for, when he was younger. More than he thought he'd ever get to have.  </p>
<p>As he sits on the couch with his family, he realizes that though the road to get here was a long, painful one, he's beyond happy that this is where he ended up. This was the light he never thought was actually at the end of the tunnel. A light he hadn't believed in, until he was sent here so long ago. </p>
<p>It was all worth it in the end. </p>
<p> </p>
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